The Day It All Went Down
by AnyOldAmy
Summary: Peter Pettigrew embodied average. From the day he was born, is life had been one very expected event after the other. He kept his head down and moved with the crowd. But Peter had secrets. The young boy that was easily influenced began to convert to the dark side. Lying became his crutch. Guilt became a memory. One-shot.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything.

**A/N:** Just another one-shot to keep me busy while I procrastinate. While we're on the subject of one-shots, you are more than welcome to check out my other one _Finally_. Just some innocent plugging, no harm done. I am also eternally sorry for the password used – I am so unoriginal and I have no idea how to think of any.

_The Day It All Went Down_

Peter remembered being positively terrified the night before, although he'd never tell anyone that. He had always shrugged it off when they mentioned it, not that it happened that often mind you. Conversations amongst the four of them usually revolved around Quidditch, Snape and detention. But on the off chance they mentioned it; it struck him as to how calm they were.

He went to bed on that April night convinced of the fact that his letter wouldn't arrive. If there were a stronger word than convinced, he would have used it. He hadn't shown the briefest glimpse of magic in his – almost – eleven years alive; hadn't broken a cup without touching it or lit something on fire without a flame. Nothing about him said wizard. Even his parents weren't expecting much. Neither of them carried the high status that the Potter's and Black's commanded. Society considered Peter a Half-blood but everyone else considered him a squib.

Yet, when he woke that Saturday morning to an owl beak knocking at his window he knew that he had something in him. Although it was obvious, that _something_ wasn't bursting with potential and power. Rather, it seemed at little latent. Much like himself, his father joked when Peter voiced his concerns over their breakfast that morning. Their small suburban house was just the right size for the three of them to live a comfortable life. His mother was a Healer at St. Mungo's while his father had taken over his grandparent's old shop when his grandfather died four years ago. Quite contrasting lives, but they made it work somehow.

Peter had gone to the local primary school up until then. In the class of forty, he was smack bang in the middle. He usually stayed quite but had a few friends and made his way through. The letter meant that in September he wouldn't have to go to the rundown Comprehensive, one town over, which was inevitable for someone like him. The letter meant the entire world to him. It meant he was something more than Billy Smith who seemed to have the perfect life. He could curse Billy if he wanted to. Maybe not right at that moment, but in the future it was a possibility.

Sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room floor around the fire after dinner on a rainy November evening in First Year, the topic came up for the first time. James had been the one to announce it.

"I knew the whole time," he boasted, in typical James fashion. The Potter's weren't known for producing squibs. They produced excellence, Pureblood quality. "Dad said he saw it in me when I was born. There was a spark or something." He smiled proudly. Peter had only known the three others for a few months yet they seemed to click well together. Peter had felt like an outsider at the beginning, but had somehow been able to integrate himself into a solid set.

"Same," Sirius said after a pause. Unlike James, not everything he said was laced with pride and power. Peter saw something in the boy that seemed damaged and broken, although he was a Black and they were known for living the high life. "It is kind of expected. My mother wouldn't be able to accept a squib. She never planned for it. It was either magic or out the front door." He finished with a laugh, but nothing about his description seemed humorous in the slightest. His eyes didn't crease and his laugh didn't bark. Peter wasn't the loudest of the group, so he had time to notice the other's quirks and traits.

Remus wasn't as soft spoken usually, but this topic made him just as quiet as was expected of Peter. As the topic turned to him, he shrugged at first, but after a knowing look from Sirius, he began. "Well, my dad is magic but my mum isn't. She was an accountant actually. I was surprised a little. They was always a chance, like with everyone. I was… yeah I was just surprised." Peter noticed the boy's fidgeting as he tugged on his shirtsleeve while he spoke. There were marks on his hand and a small graze along his jawline, stretching to his right ear. Peter knew better than to ask him. These were potential best friends and he wanted to keep up a good impression.

What struck Peter though was how honest the boys were. Each one of them sat and told the truth and were completely honest, well as far as he knew they were. Although, they hardly saw something like that as an important moment like he did. They had lived with magic their entire lives, whereas his mother had given up that lifestyle once he entered the world. Peter's only experience was when she refused to take him to the Muggle doctors. And when Peter's turn came round to speak and three pairs of eyes were looking at him, he was sure he could tell them the truth.

"I… I always knew. Mum and Dad both said when I got the letter that they weren't expecting anything else."

Damn it.

The others looked on and nodded. James smiled and joked again. Sirius's face had changed from solemn to more content and Remus's frame relaxed as the attention left him. They believed him. They had seen how much he would struggle in Charms and how average his Potion making was, but they didn't argue with him.

Peter felt bad. He lied already. Three people who he would know for the next seven years had already been introduced to a false person. No matter how small a detail, he wasn't the person they thought he was, and that wasn't a comforting thought. They stayed sitting by the fire until the Prefects came in and sent them to bed.

Although the lying bothered him, Peter felt more accepted than he did before. He went to bed repeating over that it was only a small lie. They would never find out the truth because if they did they might look down on him. He could picture James's face laughing mockingly as he wondered how he ever could be friends with someone lacking so much talent. Someone who began their friendship with a lie. James valued honesty and Peter hadn't been honest.

* * *

_(A cold night in April, 1978)_

"Hey Peter, where are you going?" Sirius called from the scarlet sofa in front of the fireplace, where he lay spread eagle with his potions book and notes scattered on the floor. Peter had forgotten that Sirius was sticking around tonight. James and Remus were at a Prefect meeting and rounds would be starting at 9 o'clock. James had adapted well to his new role as Head Boy, much to the surprise of the rest of them, along with the entire Seventh Year. But nine o'clock was in exactly twenty-four minutes according to Peter's watch, so they wouldn't been seen until tomorrow he mused as he descended the stairs before being shocked by his friend's presence. The Common Room was quite bare, with just a handful of students left in the far corners chatting and whatnot. Peter had left their other roommate Colin Robbins to finish his Charms homework. Colin didn't question the boy when he got up and left and Peter didn't give him an excuse.

That way, he wasn't really lying.

Nevertheless, you could always guarantee that Sirius would ask.

The dark haired boy sat up and faced Peter. His eyes were a dull grey and he looked, overall, exhausted.

"Just heading out. Thinking of running down to the kitchens. You want something?"

Another lie. That totalled to five today.

"It's a bit late mate. Too bad the cloak's gone. Just don't get caught. I don't think any of us can afford a few more detentions." Sirius rubbed a hand through his black hair and stood, walking over to Peter.

The one thing Peter had always hated about his friends – hate was a strong word – really disliked maybe, was their height advantage versus his. He wasn't considerably smaller than Remus, but in comparison with Sirius, who stretched over the 6-foot mark, Peter felt inferior. Not that his friend meant anything by it, or could even control it. He joked that it was his 'good genes' once. That was after he was disowned.

Yet, as Sirius looked down at his friend, Peter knew he wouldn't feel inferior for much longer.

His first formal meeting was tonight. Just a small group of them. They made it sound so intriguing and they made him feel important.

There was talk of a group being formed that were attempting to fight against the Dark Arts movement. Peter knew that his friends would join if it ever surfaced, and that he would be expected to as well. There was no name and their status was just rumour right now, but in the current state politics, most were convinced that they existed. They had been nicknamed _'The Order'_ by students.

"I'm fine for food though. I have last week and this week's potions homework due tomorrow and it won't get done itself," Sirius said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes.

"Lying on the floor, it won't get done at all," Peter replied, chuckling lightly.

"Too true Wormtail. To true. Anyway, enjoy your excursion," he began, then paused and whispered, "and change if you have to."

Becoming animagi had been quite the advantage, but Peter didn't particularly like his form.

He was a rat.

James had spent hours upon hours trying to convince Peter that he was actually a mouse, but Peter knew what he was. A rat wasn't something that was looked on as loyal, like Sirius, or graceful, like James – but only when he played Quidditch.

"Well I better get going," he said as he checked his watch but didn't let Sirius see, nineteen minutes to nine, "Prefect patrols have started."

And he turned and walked out the Common Room door.

Six. That was another lie.

* * *

He didn't pass many students on his way to the dungeons. Although he did have to step into one of the smaller corridors to avoid two Ravenclaw Prefects, Andy Christen and some girl he had never seen. It had just gone nine o'clock and he was definitely late. His father had told him on the first day at the train station in front of the Hogwarts Express that 'first impressions were lasting impressions', and Peter had tried his best to keep true to that.

He began to jog as he neared the staircase to the bottom floor. Until he heard a very familiar laugh, and began to slow down.

It was James. And Lily Evans.

The story of James Potter and Lily Evans was one that could take at least ten hours to go through. However, to cut it short, he liked her and she didn't really like him because he bullied her friend Severus but then slowly she changed her opinion because James gradually stopped being an idiot and now, almost at the end of their final year, they were officially a thing.

This was all well and good for his friend, but Peter would have much rather preferred his best friend and his girlfriend didn't see him wandering the castle, passed curfew in a very unusual setting.

Peter carefully and quietly ducked into a side corridor and stood in the shadow as they walked past.

"…and then Black just flew right in front of my face. I mean I could feel the bristles of her broom against my skin! And next thing I know I'm almost touching the ground and the Quaffle is nowhere…" James was recounting the Fifth Year Quidditch Final to Lily, something that he did often enough. Each retelling became more dramatic than the last. Lily had been very ill with the flu during both the final and the OWLs to follow, and even though she had heard the story a thousand times, she always let James tell it.

Peter watched as James placed his hand inches from the floor, showing the distance he claimed to have been from the pitch floor. Something that Peter knew wasn't true, but he let his friend have his glory. Lily just smiled and nodded. She laughed at the right times, but it wasn't put on. Peter had seen the look in her eyes when she watched James talk and it was something Peter wished he could find.

They walked on without even a glance down the corridor and when he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, he began his jog again. He reached the dungeon at the bottom of the stairs at four minutes passed nine and came face to face with Dominic Avery. The boy was tall. Peter guessed as tall as Sirius. His blond hair was messy and his brown eyes were hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses.

His face was an entire scowl.

"You're late Pettigrew. We told you nine. It's now five past. If you want into anything, you have to follow the rules. Don't think you can start to make your own," his voice was deep and he spoke with a thick Scottish accent, although it had been softened over the years.

Peter just nodded in reply, having nothing to say. He wasn't going to reach seven serious lies in one day was he?

Dominic turned and walked towards the Slytherin entrance and Peter followed without a sound. He was used to being a follower.

"Emerald Serpent," he spoke to the stonewall and as the path cleared, he walked in. Peter followed but Dominic stopped before they continued, "This is a once off Pettigrew, not to mention against the rules. The password is changed tomorrow so don't start thinking you and your ridiculous friends are welcome in here." He turned again and they walked into the room.

It was large. Much larger than the Gryffindor Common Room, but Peter felt more welcome in his own rather than here. Red and gold made everything feel warm. The silver furnishings and dark green leather furniture seemed more clinical than welcoming.

Lyra Black sat perched in one of the chairs with her Potions book in her hand, just like Sirius. She was next to the fire, which was roaring with life in a very ornate fireplace. Her friend Christine Drakefoot sat across from her. They were the only two in the large room. She glanced up from her book at the sound of walking and was taken back by Peter's presence. Half her face was tinted green from the Great Lake's nauseating glow. Her blue eyes grew wide and she opened her mouth but Dominic stopped her before she could speak.

"Don't say a word Black. This is private business."

She didn't seem to agree with him but complied anyway, nodding to Christine to do the same. Peter knew what she was capable of, having seen her row with Sirius more times than he could count. However, that was in the past and she had become a tolerable person over the years, if not a little condescending still.

Dominic continued through another passage to, what Peter assumed, were the dorms. He stopped in front of the last door on the left side, knocked three times, opened, and entered, with Peter doing the same.

Inside sat Anthony Mulciber, Daniel Crabbe and Snape, all around a circular table. Mulciber seemed to be heading the discussion as he sat at what appeared to be the top, although Peter wondered how a circular table could act so.

As he joined the others and sat, he felt more uncomfortable than he ever did when with his own friends. These boys in front of him were destined for something that Peter believed he wasn't. The meeting started with Mulciber announcing his presence as the newest member and apologising for Samuel Thorrow's absence as he was stuck in the library due to his imminent failure of Arithmancy. Snape had glared at Peter when Anthony asked him to say a few words about his strange choice of side, but Crabbe defended him, stating that he was the in 'the Dark Lord needed' into the rebellion against him.

Peter stood suddenly, while Mulciber was in the midst of another speech, "I'm sorry but I can't do this…

"…sit down Pettigrew."

"I'm not who you want."

"Peter."

"I can't go against them. They all expect me to join them and be on their side. What happens when they discover I've betrayed them?"

"When the Dark Lord rises to power, your friends will have betrayed you by not following the intended path," Avery replied calmly. Peter remained standing.

"We have the obvious advantage over them. The magic we use, our end goal is all much more achievable than their dream of peace and equality. It will never happen. But you're important to us. You can help our side win. The real side. Once we gain control, there will be no more struggle. Can't you see that without those Mudbloods ruining our education, we can finally tap into our real potential?" Crabbe said, seated to Peter's left.

Mulciber nodded for Peter to sit down. "Just think of it this way," he said, leaning forward, "if you follow the rules, you won't be killed."

Peter didn't speak until he knew what to say.

"I'll do what I can as long as I'm spared."

That wasn't a lie.


End file.
